


Dream A Little Dream of Me

by Toe_Separator



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e04 Doppelganger, Gen, Hurt John Sheppard, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, John Sheppard Whump, Past Child Abuse, Patrick Sheppard's Bad Parenting, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:51:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5277359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toe_Separator/pseuds/Toe_Separator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of jumping from one person to another, the entity remained in John Sheppard. AUish twist to Doppelganger! Shep-whump and a lot of angst. McKay/Sheppard friendship in later chapters. NO SLASH. Originally posted on fanfiction.net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or the characters displayed in it. Not making any profit out of this either.
> 
> Spoilers: Everything up to Doppelganger is a fair game.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: So as mentioned in the summary, this is an AUish take on the lovely episode "Doppelganger". My own evil version of it (mohahahhaha!). I've also taken the liberty to change a few things about Sheppard's past. For instance, he doesn't have a brother, but otherwise many things are the way it has been portrayed in the show. I felt compelled to write this for I find evil!John very intriguing... Leave a review and tell me your opinion! Constructive criticism and hints in evolving my writing skills are greatly appreciated! Unbeta'd, aka all mistakes are my own. I originally posted this story on fanfiction.net under the same title. The whole work is finished, so I'm publishing it all now :) Hope you enjoy!

 

"I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

Offering a slightly lop-sided grin one Lt. Colonel John Sheppard stepped out of the infirmary with Teyla by his side. The glowing alien fungus  _had_  been mesmerizing, but he had no idea why did he touch that damn thing in the first place!?

"It's been a long day."  _You got that right._

"Well, thanks for hanging out." And he meant it. John suppressed the urge to massage his temples to relieve the headache he could feel building up. From the corner of his eye the pilot could see Teyla smile ever so slightly. Offering a warm smile of his own, John patted her back reassuringly.

"I'm fine. Get some sleep." And he was. Considering. Doing the idiotic thing he did back at the planet could've led into some serious trouble.  _You are a proper genius Sheppard_. With a barely noticeable sigh Sheppard turned his back to Teyla. A hot shower and a good night's sleep was all he wanted at the moment.

"Good night, John." Watching the colonel wave his hand in acknowledgement Teyla also started heading towards her quarters.

 

* * *

 

John awoke with a gasp. Grasping his chest for a hand that was not there, he slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was in his quarters. Albeit on the hard floor (when had he gotten there?) than on his comfortable bed, but definitely not back at Kolya's torture-chamber with the wraith literally sucking the life out of him.

Groaning softly he lifted himself in a sitting position. He felt shaky, sweaty and he could feel his heart racing. Damn that dream had been  _vivid_. He had felt the gag covering his mouth, how hard it was to breath, seen the wicked grin on Kolya's smug face he barely even tried to hide. The pain of the feeding process. Unconsciously rubbing his chest Sheppard struggled to his feet. After drawing in a few shaky breaths the messy-haired pilot pulled his hand through his hair, making it even messier. Waiting for his heartbeat to steady, John glanced at his trustworthy watch. 3.15 am.  _Oh that's just great_. Deciding there was going to be no more sleeping this night, he changed into a black t-shirt and sweatpants. Not wanting to dwell any longer in the events of his nightmare, he finished tying his shoelaces, bounced up and stepped outside for a run.

Jogging through the empty corridors of Atlantis made John feel a little better. Running had always had that kind of calming effect on him. When you were on a jog, it was just you and the road. Picking up his pace he shoved the remnants of his night-time terrors back in to the carefully sealed closet in the back of his mind.

 

* * *

 

Much to McKay's misery and John's delight, the movie of the evening was Back to the Future.

"Oh come on! We've seen this one at least a hundred times! Isn't there any other movie we could have watched? Something that is actually  _good_? Like Batman?"

"Quit whining McKay, the movie is over already." Sheppard drawled. Truth to be told, even he was getting tired of watching the same film over and over again, but annoying one arrogant rambling Dr. Meredith McKay was something one spiky-haired fly-boy Lt. Col. John Sheppard truly enjoyed.

"Next time, I'll get to decide the movie!" Rodney declared loudly with a defiant glare before stomping out of the room muttering under his breath something about stubborn fly-boys making him waste his precious time and massive intellect on inane mumbo jumbo. Hiding his smirk, John got up from the chair he'd been sitting.

"Well kids, I'm off to bed, see you guys tomorrow." Stifling a yawn John waved his goodbyes to Teyla and Ronon who were exchanging an amused glance due to Rodney's departure.

"I think I will "hit the sack" as well." Hesitating slightly with the foreign Earth-term, Teyla nodded in her agreement while Ronon gave an affirmative grunt.

Reaching his quarters John had trouble to shake off the uneasiness landing on him. Snaps of last night's dream intruded his mind: wraith leaning over him, stretching his hand, reaching his chest and...  _Get a grip of yourself Sheppard!_  Shaking his head in frustration John started getting ready for bed.  _Jeez, just suck it up!_  Suddenly feeling drained Sheppard rubbed his face and pulled the covers over his body. After barely catching any z's last night, he needed a good solid eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Tired as he was, John couldn't relax. Something kept him on the edge, denying him the sweet rest he sorely needed. After hours of rolling around he finally fell into a restless slumber.

 

* * *

 

"This is pretty good. What is it?" John lifted his eyebrow as he stuffed in another forkful of a peculiar Athosian dish he'd dubbed "meat-stew", containing something resembling a potato. Well, whatever it was, it was delicious. Relaxed, John let his gaze wander around his surroundings. He and Teyla were on the mainland, in one of the New Athos' cozy little leather-tents.

Suddenly John noticed Ronon was smirking smugly in the corner while casually leaning against a wooden closet. When had Ronon arrived? Shrugging off his surprise John took another mouthful. Ronon's smirk grew a bit wider. "I  _knew_  you two were going to eventually hook up."

Frowning in slight confusion and a bit irritated (after all, they were just friends) John lowered his voice into the enough-of-this-nonsense-tone which he usually saved for McKay's prolonged babbling. "We're not hooking up, it's just dinner!"

"I'm telling you, there's something in here giving off a strange energy reading..." Even more puzzled, John turned his head to find Rodney with his eyes glued into the LSD he was holding. Momentarily stunned Sheppard merely stared as the scientist moved away in a semi-circle. Looking back to Teyla, searching for explanation or at the very least confirmation he wasn't hallucinating, John realized Teyla had stood up from her chair and backed to the far end of the tent, as far as she could get from John without actually leaving the tent. And... Was that fear in her eyes?

"John…? What are you doing?" Why was Teyla speaking so warily? The pilot opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, only to realize he as well was standing. And holding a knife so tightly that his knuckles were white.  _What the hell?_  Lifting his gaze to Teyla's unnerved form John tried to reassure her by dropping the knife from his grasp. Instead of unclenching his fist, his feet involuntarily stepped towards the Athosian until Sheppard was straight in front of her, so close he could count her eyelashes, blocking any possible escape.

"John, please drop the knife." Teyla breathed out, the quivering in her voice betraying the panic her eyes did not. Starting to freak out from not being able to control his actions, John opened his mouth again to say something in order to comfort Teyla, but nothing came out. The faint moistness in her beautiful eyes had grown and gathered into a large teardrop that slowly ran down Teyla's cheek.

"John, please don't.  _Please_." Sheppard was taken aback at how weak and broken Teyla sounded. As he pressed the tip of the knife against Teyla's stomach she flinched and the tears started falling freely. To his horror John saw himself push the knife with all the strength he could muster as Teyla gasped in pain. Feeling numb he watched the blood oozing from the wound, staining his hands and splattering on his shirt. Bright red blood. Teyla's blood. Shifting his gaze into her face Sheppard saw those big brown eyes filled with agony, betrayal, sorrow and terror, accusing him for doing this. Still shocked of what had happened John watched Teyla part her lips in an attempt to speak, only to cough out blood. The pilot continued staring, still feeling detached in an odd way, as Teyla struggled to voice her thoughts.

"W... Wh... Why..?" Teyla's whisper was barely audible and enough to snap Sheppard back into his body. Only it continued disobeying, when John realized his grip on the weapon had tightened once again. Slowly, he started to twist the hilt. Moaning weakly, Teyla's legs stopped supporting her and John caught her slackened body. Panicking, he searched her eyes in time to see the sparkle of life leaving from them never to return.

"No, TEYLA!" Trying to grasp Teyla, to convince himself he had merely imagined the vacant, hollow stare, to help her, John bounced up from his bed.  _Wait a second_. Bed? Letting his gaze wander John realized he was standing in front of his bed, in the familiar room that had become his home. Definitely not on the mainland eating a strange Athosian dish. And that meant... Relief washed over him as he realised that Teyla was a-okay, most likely sleeping in her own quarters. Feeling an urge to burst into a hysterical laughter, he buried his face in his shaking hands. Oh thank god it was just a dream.. When he got his breathing under control and had suppressed the trembling, John ran both of his hands through the sweat-soaked dark hair which had stuck onto the back of his neck. So much for the peaceful, much-needed rest. Seeing that it was already 4:00 am, John convinced himself that it would be futile going back to bed and changed into his running gear. Setting a steady pace for himself, John Sheppard once again jogged through the dark, empty hallways of Atlantis.

 

* * *

 

Stepping out of the long, relaxing shower that had driven away the lingering remains of last night, John checked the time again. Little over six am. As his stomach started to rumble Sheppard realized that he was starving. To the mess-hall for early breakfast then! Ronon would be most likely busy beating up the new marines and, John admitted to himself, he wasn't ready to face Teyla. Not yet. He was afraid she would somehow find out the content of his dream (sometimes she could read him like a book, which kind of scared John a little bit. Not that he'd ever admit it.) So that left Rodney. If luck was with him, McKay would already be awake fiddling with some Ancient trinket and in need of a break, though John suspected it would not be hard to convince the scientist to accompany him as long as they weren't serving lemon porridge.

Arriving in Rodney's lab John couldn't help but chuckle at the view in front of him. Dr. Rodney McKay, the self-proclaimed smartest man in two galaxies, was slumped in his chair, leaning his chin on his hands - he had obviously pulled an all-nighter while studying some new shiny Ancient gadget. That in itself was nothing new under the sun, the funny part being his wide-open-fish-on-dry-land-mouth and the small stream of drool escaping from it, pouring down his chin and dripping on the table. The fact that Rodney was faintly snoring and twitching his fingers only made the whole thing better. Smirking, John made his way on the scientist right side and declared with an exaggerated upbeat voice: "Rise and shine, Meredith!"

Startled, Rodney flailed his arms around him, trying to prevent falling from the chair - and utterly failing. "OH JESUS CHRIST!" John's smirk widened as he saw Rodney landing on his gluteus maximus.

"Actually, my name is John." Sheppard drawled casually.

"Ha, ha, very funny, no one has ever made that joke before, so original of you..." Rodney mumbled bitterly as he gingerly stood up and tried to wipe the drool away discreetly.

"Ouch, don't you know that I bruise like a peach?! You could have killed me, sneaking upon me like that you know! You nearly gave me a heart attack! Or I could have landed on my head and severely damage my irreplaceable brain!  _Permanently!_ "

"You drool in your sleep, did you know that? And snore. Loudly." John watched amused as Rodney squirmed, trying to feign disinterest.

"For the record, I do not snore! Neither do I drool. I might experience some, overproduction of saliva, after a long hard day of working my ass of - thank you very much - but I certainly  _do not_  drool! And don't try to get away of nearly killing me by switching the subject!" Tuning out the scientist complains John leaned towards the tablet, getting a better look at the jibber jabber on the screen. "Late night, huh?"

"Well thank you for the newsflash Captain Obvious!" McKay snapped, still irritated.

The pilot raised his right index finger absentmindedly. "It's Colonel Obvious, remember?"

Ignoring Sheppard's comment, Rodney rambled on. "And FYI, the study I was conducting is possibly of great importance, well not that I'd waste my priceless time to something insignificant, even my minions can handle them... Or no no no no, Zelenka, he's a far better choice - at least with him I don't have to be afraid of the lab blowing apart, though on the other hand..."

"Rodney!" Catching the slightly baffled scientist attention John continued: "Get to the point."

"Right, right the point. Well, considering that I manage to squeeze some time for this instead of passing it forward to Zelenka, indicates that.."

"Rodney.."

"I'm getting there! Jeez Sheppard! As I was saying, I believe this thing.." Rodney picked up an oval-shaped small, grey, rock-like-object with a smooth surface ".. can be worth one's while. I think, with an emphasis on the  _think_ , that this baby right here could actually be a healing device." With a smug smile plastered on his face Rodney lowered the gadget back onto the table.

"Are you serious?"John knew the excitement in McKay's eyes matched the one in his own. This was big news, no huge! Having a portable healing device (it would fit snugly into one of the TAC-vest's pockets..) would be much more worth than it's weight in gold.

"I can't say for sure yet, hence the on-going research, but in my opinion... I think we might have hit the jackpot. Now off you go, and let Unca Rodney carry on." Waving his hand dismissively McKay turned towards his tablet, swiftly forgetting John's presence (or existence for that matter). Clearing his throat the pilot managed to make Rodney jump in his chair.

"What?!"

"I was just wondering if you'd like to hit the mess hall for early breakfast.." John inquired with a crooked grin. Rodney could never resist even the mention of a prospective meal. And as expected, the scientist's eyes lit up during the words mess hall and breakfast. Moving faster that John had thought him capable of, McKay leaped of his chair and passed him.

"What are you waiting for? Come on before Ronon's finished with the marines or he'll hog all of the scrambled eggs!"

Snorting, John countered: "Pot.. Kettle.." McKay rolled his eyes before hurrying towards the mess hall.

 

* * *

 

".. and then he called  _me_  immature! Can you believe it?! I mean, helloo, genius over here! So anyway.." Letting McKay's ranting go in from one ear and out from the other Sheppard pushed the bacon and eggs on his around plate with his fork. As they had sat down at the table John had suddenly had a flashback of last night's dream, of Teyla's cold, lifeless eyes staring vacantly ahead, of the blood on his hands,  _oh God there was so much blood_ , of Teyla pleading him to stop, of the resistance of Teyla's skin when he pressed the knife on it and how he continued pushing until he could feel the skin ripping apart, making way for the knife... Nausea had nearly overwhelmed him, and now he fought not to toss his cookies right then and there. And the pounding in his head was not making it any better. Glaring knives at his food like it was completely it's fault, John pushed a slice of bacon covered in grease to the other edge of the plate. Trying to calm his rebelling stomach he thought about bright blue, cloudless skies when Rodney pulled him out of his musings by snapping his fingers in front of the pilot's face.

"Colonel? Time to come back from the Laalaa-land!"

"Mm what?"

"My God you have the attention span of a banana-fly! I've been calling your name for like a minute!"

"Did not."

"Did too!" Frowning at the lack of enthusiasm in Sheppard's retort Rodney took a closer look at his friends. He looked like he hadn't had a decent sleep in a while, with the pale face and dark smudges under his eyes. Glancing at the pilot's full plate Rodney added loss of appetite into his mental list.

"You okay Colonel? You look like crap." Nice and straight, that's the way to do it. Rodney watched as Sheppard ruffled his messy hair (how was it so spiky? Did Sheppard use some kind of gel to make it look like that?), clearly uncomfortable. "I'm fine, just had a weird dream that's all.."

Satisfied with the Colonel's response (honestly, could you expect the man to say something other than "fine" or "I'm good"?) Rodney snorted. "Don't come talk to me about weird! Oh please, you want to hear bizarre? Let me tell you about..."

John listened Rodney describing in great detail how he got invited in Colonel Carter's quarters for dinner, only to notice her serving lemon chicken and the reason for the invitation being that she was promoting Zelenka over him ("I mean Zelenka,  _really?!_ "), in his dream last night. The throbbing of his head was only getting worse as was the nausea churning in his guts. ".. and then I was eaten by a whale. Don't ask how that happened."

"You know what Rodney, I just remembered I need to file some mission reports. Catch you later?" Baffled, Rodney watched mouth open as the Colonel abruptly got up from the chair he was sitting in and almost bolted out of the room. Getting over the surprise, Rodney exchanged Sheppard's barely touched plate with his own nearly licked-clean-plate. Only fools wasted food.

As soon as John hit his quarters he made his way swiftly to the toilet. Losing the battle he started heaving everything he had left in his stomach (which wasn't much since he had only managed to swallow a mouthful). After he was done John wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. He felt miserable and being coated in sweat did nothing to get his mood up. Drained of his strength, Sheppard slumped on the cool floor and planted his forehead on it, which eased his headache a bit. His eyelids led-like, John couldn't prevent them drooping down. Maybe he'd close them just for a short while.. Within two minutes the military commander of Atlantis was sound asleep, curled on the bathroom floor.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

He was in a forest. It was pretty much your average-every-world-forest which varied little planet to planet. Breathing in the fresh air, Sheppard allowed himself a small satisfied smile, enjoying the rare moment of quiet and peace. The sound of laser blasts snapped him away from his musings, guiding his attention towards where heavy footsteps could be heard approaching. Alarmed, John grabbed a large stick lying on the ground near-by.

His eyebrows rose in surprise when he recognized the runner. What on Earth was Ronon doing in here? Opening his mouth to call out for his friend Sheppard was startled when his arms swung the stick on their own accord, making a solid contact with Ronon's chest. The big Satedan fell down with his breath knocked out of him. Confused by his own behaviour, Sheppard stepped out from behind the tree he had been hiding.

"Hey, buddy. What are you running from?" He asked nonchalantly.

Ronon blinked. "I don't know."

John put out his hand in an effort to help the ex-runner back on his feet. "C'mon."

The second Ronon stood on his ground, Sheppard's body took control over him, hitting Ronon hard on the head with the stick, making him instantly blackout. Watching himself bound Ronon's hands and feet, and proceeding to dig up a hole with a shovel (where did the shovel come from?) was filling John with dread. Trying to resist and utterly failing flamed the dread into panic.

Sheppard screamed inside of his head when his rebellious body dragged Ronon next to the homemade grave and dumped him inside. As he began to throw dirt on top of his friend, Ronon's eyes opened up wide. "MMMHHMHMM!"

John continued to pile up the loose dirt. Ronon glared daggers at him while struggling to stay above it.  _If looks could kill..._  Another shovelful hit the bottom. Ronon struggled a bit harder as it was becoming painfully obvious he wouldn't be able to win this particular fight. Now reduced to begging in his mind, John watched with terror as his teammate was being buried alive.

 

* * *

 

John scrambled on his feet only to find out he was in his bathroom. Slumping uncontrollably back on the cold floor, he rested his forehead on his thighs while trying to steady his breathing and quell the tremors racing through his hands. What the hell was wrong with him? Sure, he wasn't exactly a stranger to nightmares, but these ones were different. Somehow more  _real_  than anything he'd experienced before. Almost like it really had happened and now they were memories.

"Just suck it up John. You've been through worse," he muttered to himself. Exhaling deeply he rose to his feet while taking support from the sink. The moment he got vertical the headache began its pounding again. "Damn."

Feeling slightly dizzy he opened the faucet and splashed some water on his face washing away the cold sweat. He opened his eyes wearily, looking at himself from the mirror above the sink. What stared back at him was an ashen-faced man with dark eye bags and gravity-defying hair spiking in every imaginable direction. Huh. Rodney was right, he did look like crap.

"Pull yourself together. It's just a couple of bad dreams, they can't hurt you." Not really convincing himself he sighed deeply and closed his eyes again. God he was tired... He re-opened them with difficulty and left to his bedroom to look out for his laptop. After all, he  _did_  have some mission reports to file.

 

* * *

 

Giving up on the reports due to lack of concentration stemming from the throbbing in his head combined with the gradual sleep deprivation had Sheppard drag himself back to the mess hall in hopes of a nice, hot cup of coffee. Part of the lure of caffeine was also its invigorating effect on his mind, postponing the need to sleep. He wasn't quite ready to admit to himself just how much his recent nightmares were affecting him. Sheppards weren't afraid to close their eyes because of a few petty dreams. Annoyed with himself, the pilot scowled at the nearly empty pot of coffee. Just his luck.

"Hey." Recognizing Ronon's deep rumble made Sheppard spill some of the left-over coffee on the counter. "Didn't see you on the morning run."

Forcing a mask of normalcy on his features, Sheppard turned to face his teammate.

"Hey buddy!" John let the faked cheerfulness hide his anxiety at the reminder of this morning's terrors. After all, he was highly skilled with smoke and mirrors when he wanted to.

"Yeah, sorry about that, went to grab some grub with McKay and then I had some mission reports to file. Next morning I'll be there, promise."

His answer was met with one raised eyebrow.

"Pinky promise?"

Ronon looked at him suspiciously, but clearly decided to let it slide this time. "Speaking of McKay, he's been looking for you."

"Huh, why?"

"Said you bolted out of the mess hall like there was a wraith chasing you."

John gave a small nervous laugh. "Oh that, I just remembered the reports that's all." Ronon gave a noncommittal grunt (did that guy have a grunt for everything?).

"You sure you're good? You look like you're about to keel over."

Avoiding eye-contact Sheppard bobbed his head up and down. Not one of his best ideas, considering the headache.

"Yep, just peachy. Had a little less sleep than normal last night, no big deal." He shrugged. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have some super-secret thermos flask filled with freshly-brewed coffee hidden in that hair of yours?" Ronon rolled his eyes.

"So that's a no?"

With that they headed towards their usual seats, the Satedan warrior with his plate piled full with food, and the Air Force Colonel with his measly mug of now lukewarm coffee.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day flew by quickly. A meeting here, a debriefing there plus a minor accident in the west wing of the city and before he knew it, the day was at an end. Currently the military leader Atlantis, the legendary Lt. Colonel John Sheppard was sitting on the brink of his bed, too afraid to go to sleep.

Weary, John dragged a hand over his face.  _This is just pathetic. A grown man, afraid to sleep._ He gave a small, bitter guffaw. Oh if father could see him now he'd… Well John didn't really know what he'd do. _Better not to go there._  He pondered darkly.

Sighing he rose to his feet, taking a last sip of his coffee. Since all the mission reports et cetera where up to date, he decided to hit the gym.

 

* * *

 

As he stumbled back to his quarters at dawn, Sheppard was ready to drop dead. Every time he sat down his eyelids had a will of they own and slid close. And every time he would jump up startled before sleep took over.

The gym bag hit the floor with a heavy  _thud_. Disoriented, Sheppard blinked at it. Huh. He blinked again and swayed slightly. Guess his fingers had just gone lax. With that thought his knees gave in as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. A Sheppard-sized lump hit the floor with a more distinct  _thud_.

 

* * *

 

_THUMP THUMP THUMP._

Ronon growled in frustration and concern. He raised his fist again.

_THUMP THUMP THUMP._

No response.

"Sheppard  _do you read?!_ "

He tried pounding on the door again. "McKay, are you coming or not?"

The out-of-breath-scientist snarked back at him over the radio. " _Yes - I'm on - my way - no need to be so -"_

"Be so what?"

Jogging around the corner Rodney stopped for a while to catch his breath and waved his hand absentmindedly. "Never - mind." In the meanwhile Teyla, not even slightly out of breath, stepped next to Ronon.

"So what's the problem? Sleeping beauty - locked herself in?" Rodney said still slightly puffing. The Satedan would have given him a stern glance had it not been the concerned look on the scientists face.

"He missed the morning run. Again. Not answering his comm either," Ronon responded gruffly.

McKay glanced at the Life Signs Detector he always seemed to carry with him. "Well there is definitely a life sign in there…"

"We need to make sure John is alright," said Teyla worriedly.

Rodney looked up to Ronon only to see the big guy staring impatiently right back at him. "Fine, fine, I'll override his code, it'll take a couple of minutes," Rodney sighed in defeat.

True to his words, McKay got the door open in little over three minutes with a loud, triumphant "HA!" Wasting no time the trio rushed inside finding Sheppards limp body lying on the bedroom floor next to a discarded black gym bag.

 

* * *

 

"What's wrong with him Jennifer?" McKay asked on a distressed tone. Teyla looked extremely worried while Ronon was clearly barely resisting the urge to punch the infirmary wall. Even Sam had made an appearance despite her busy schedule.

Doctor Jennifer Keller fixed her gentle gaze back to the disheveled scientist. "Well…" she began hesitantly while unconsciously gnawing her lower lip. "As far as I can tell he just seems to be asleep. His brainwaves match those found during REM sleep, so a coma can be ruled out. There is no reasonable explanation why he would not wake up. That got me curious so I put him under the Ancient scanner and I found… This."

Keller showed them the MRI-picture of Sheppards brain. "I nearly missed it at first, it is a very subtle difference. If you look closely at the cortex" she pointed at the utmost thin layer of the brain "you'll notice those teeny tiny black tendrils wriggling their way into the nooks and crannies of the Colonel's brain. I have no idea what that is, but it most certainly is not normal. If you look even more closely, you should see the tendrils tapping even to the lower brain areas, including the limbic system, hippocampus et cetera."

The young doctor shared a worried glance with the team. "I have no idea how to treat this." She whispered.

A stunned silence followed her words, with everyone trying to digest the unsettling news. Then Rodney snapped his fingers rapidly.

"That creepy alien fungus!" he exclaimed with a sudden eureka moment. His brilliant discovery was met with empty stares.

Rodney huffed indignantly. "You know, the glowing thing he so idiotically touched last week? Ring any bells?"

Understanding dawned amongst the others.

"Yes.." said Teyla slowly. "I believe you may be correct Doctor McKay. Every since that incident John has seemed.." She hesitated. "Distracted."

Ronon translated that to the rest of them. "He's been looking like crap."

Teyla nodded. "It seems he has not been able to sleep well."

"Hmmh." Keller frowned slightly. "You believe in coincidences?"

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

The floor was made of solid concrete, which was about the only thing John could tell from the place he was since he could see neither a roof nor walls. That could be blamed on the mist, glowing eerily as it's hungry tendrils circled around him. Fascinated, he lifted his fingers to gently brush the faint grey substance.

A sudden  _whoosh_  startled him. Turning abruptly into a defensive position, Sheppard found himself face to face with no one else but Doctor Elizabeth Weir. A certainly Very Deceased Doctor Elizabeth Weir.

"Wha.. I.. How…" He stuttered, utterly dumfounded.

Elizabeth's cold, accusing glare was something he had rarely seen his friend express. Mostly it had been reserved for Kolya. Having it directed towards him… It was like a punch to the gut.

"Elizabeth, I'm…" He tried again to…  _What? Apologize? Ask for forgiveness?_  Like he'd deserve any of those after what he'd done.

" _It's your fault."_  She spat out, her venomous voice echoing strangely in the empty space. " _You killed me. You could have saved me too, but what did you do? You turned your back and you_ ran _."_

John blinked away the sudden moistness pooling in his eyes. "I- I never wanted this. I tried to come up with a way, I…" He was glad that at least his voice came out steady, not revealing the emotional turmoil inside.  _Small mercies huh._

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed into slits. " _And you failed."_

That struck the pilot speechless. What could he say? She was right. He failed her, like he had failed many others before.

The look on Weir's face was pure contempt. " _It should have been you."_

With that, the mist began to weave itself together, forming all too familiar figures. There was Carson, Ford, Mitch, Dex, Holland… Everyone he'd ever let down, everyone he had failed. Everyone he had killed.

There were also many bodies without any facial features and John just  _knew_  they were the people the Wraith had fed upon - since he was the screw-up who woke them up in the first place - and every single person the Replicators had killed in their task to beat the Wraith.

He had trouble breathing. All that guilt and shame was overwhelming. If he'd been stronger or smarter they might still have been alive.  _But I'm never good enough now am I?_ A small bitter laugh escaped from his lips.  _Guess father was right after all._

They were all speaking now, the army of the dead, their accusing voices echoing around the room like Elizabeth's had. " _It should have been you."_

" _It should have been you."_

John covered his ears with his hands in a vain attempt to block out the noise. Maybe they were right. God knows how many of them would still be alive if he would have died in Afghanistan like he should have, or even before that.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and tried to cover up their chanting with a mantra of his own. "Shut up, shut up, shut up…" He muttered under his breath while curling into himself.

All of a sudden quietness landed like a thick cloak. Warily Sheppard opened one eye to take a peek. What he saw nearly made his heart stop. In a second his face was entirely drained of color. The pilot slowly lowered his arms as if he was dreaming, and stood up straight to meet the eyes of the first - and perhaps only - person in the world who had ever loved him for who he was, long before he created his masks. Hazel eyes locked with hazel eyes, the other pair silently pleading, the other disappointed.

This time when John blinked some of the moistness escaped, dropping down his cheek. His breathing hitched slightly. "Mom..?" he whispered.

She was just as beautiful as he had remembered, with long dark curls pouring over her pale shoulders. It stood in stark contrast with the coldness in her eyes. Then some hate bleeded in, mixing together with the icy glare. " _It should have been_ you."

A pained expression flitted over John's features. It was as if someone had stabbed him right in the heart and was now in the process of gleefully twisting the knife.

One by one, the ghosts of his past started to fade away back into the mist, his mother being the last to disappear. That left Sheppard alone with his thoughts, feeling hollow and lonely. Much like how he had spent the majority of his life.

He closed his eyes wearily, and when he opened them, Sheppard found himself standing in the control tower of Atlantis. The room was dimly lit by an active wormhole in the background giving the whole area a blueish tint.

"What the…"

"Welcome John! I have waited for quite a while to  _finally_  get to meet you!"

The pilot swiveled around in order to find to source of the surprisingly familiar voice. His eyes widened as he once again looked into identical hazel orbs. Only this time the person accompanying them was… Him.

Taken aback, Sheppard scrutinised his doppelganger. The resemblance was remarkable. As far as he could tell it was like staring into a mirror, down to the uncontrollable hair spiking everywhere and the slightly pointy ears. One girl in high school had actually seriously believed he was an elf.

John suppressed a sudden urge to wave his hands in the air, just to see if his "twin" would mimick him. Though something about him was giving the pilot a bad vibe.

"What, are you not going to greet me?" The doppelganger gave a fake pout.

"Who are you? What is this place?" John asked guardedly.

The other him gave a hearty laugh, sending shivers down John's spine. All of his instincts were screaming at him to run. Unconsciously his hands balled into fists as he discreetly adopted a more defensive stance.

"Well, I'm you of course!" said the doppelganger, swiping tears of joy from the corners of his eyes. "I'm what you never let others see. The evil inside you, feeding the self-hatred, the loathing." he spoke softly, with a malicious smirk spreading on his lips. "I am the reason why you are so scared of yourself, the reason why you see a monster staring back at you when you gaze into a mirror."

John matched the smirk with one of his own. No way he was letting this guy get to him. He relaxed his posture and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his BDU's. "So, what? I'm 'my own worst enemy'? Isn't that a bit cliché?" he drawled.

The not-him gave an amused  _hmmph_  and quirked one eyebrow. "Is it cliché when it's true?"

Before John could form a witty retort, the thing waved his hand dismissively, starting to circle him with a slow stroll. "Oh never mind, I know you're too stubborn to admit to it. Even if we both know it's true. To answer to your second question, "this place"" not-Sheppard made a pair of air quotes "is in your head. Technically speaking you are currently asleep, which I guess would make this a nightmare."

It stopped, giving him a cold little smile.

"A nightmare huh? I've had worse." John responded nonchalantly, hiding his discomfort.

It's smile grew, flashing him some white teeth. "Oh I absolutely  _love_  this phase, when you have no idea what's coming!" It chuckled and beamed wickedly at him. "You see, I know  _everything about you_. All your deepest, darkest secrets, your biggest fears, your greatest wishes… Oh yes, I know all about how Daddy dearest despised his so-called son."

Despite his efforts to keep the mask in place, the last sentence made him pale slightly. Could he know?

The not-him snickered. "Please, of course I know! I'm sitting tight in that messed up noggin of yours." It smiled pointedly. " And this place?" the thing waved around itself. "This is my realm, my kingdom. I can do whatever I please. Here, I am  _God_! And you, my friend, are only a puny little bug I could squash with a single thought." It smirked smugly.

As if to prove a point, the doppelganger snapped it's fingers, causing John to slam forcefully into the wall. His breath got knocked out of his lungs - man he was going to get some impressive bruises - and before he could try to focus just to  _breathe_ , he was airborne again, this time his head making solid contact with the hard floor.

He could feel something warm and sticky dripping down his left temple.  _Another concussion. Good job John._ Probably cracked his ribs too, if the throbbing of his upper torso was anything to go by.

Fighting the lack of oxygen, Sheppard groaned quietly. "That's… the best… you got?" he wheezed painfully. He kept his eyes shut, trying to overcome the pain in his head and ribs.

Suddenly, another  _whoosh_  could be heard. With effort, John lifted his head and peeled his eyes open. What he saw was not what he had expected.

A very confused looking Doctor Rodney McKay, PhD yadda-yadda-yadda, was standing in the middle of the room, his gaze wavering from John lying on the floor on his stomach into the look-alike standing few feet away from him.

"Um, Sheppard?" he asked uncertainly.

 

* * *

 

The team was gathered around Sheppard's prone form in the infirmary, listening to the familiar, albeit a bit distressed beeping of the heart monitor. Carter had stopped by as well, and was currently fiddling with her tablet with a frown on her pretty face. Teyla was meditating on the floor, Rodney sat in one of the infirmary's uncomfortable chairs  _(like they'd have any comfortable ones, really what was it with hospitals and uncomfortable chairs?)_  and Ronon kept a watch over them all.

Rodney leaned his chin into his palms while sadly looking at his friend. John looked as if he was merely sleeping. He had known something was up, he should have done something. No, strike that, he is the resident genius, he should  _do_  something. Only he had no idea how to help his friend.

He sighed deeply. "I wish there was a way for one of us to get in there."

Carter lifted her head, intrigued. "Into the Colonel's dreams?"

She appeared to have an idea taking shape. Rodney continued, slightly nervous. "Yeah, you know, try to help him out. Maybe we can kick the entity out of his head?" He knew he was grasping at straws when he added desperately "Come on, all the things you've seen, you've never come across a way for one person to get into another person's dreams?"

She stood up abruptly and rushed out of the infirmary.

Ronon looked at the empty exit after her and then back to the others. "Where's she going? What's going on?"

McKay answered slowly. "I don't know, but I think I'm about to see a side of Sheppard I never wanted to see." He seemed to get a bit paler at the thought of what he was going to do, provided he got the chance.

Teyla stood up gracefully from her spot on the floor and laid a gentle hand on Rodney's arm. "It does not have to be you." She said softly.

Rodney cleared his throat and adopted his I-know-better-than-everyone-else scowl on his face. Sheppard wasn't the only one who could be as stubborn as a mule. "Yeah, well it's my bad idea."

With those words he followed Carter out with a determined gait.

Ronon's deep voice rumbled in confusion. "What was?"

Teyla smiled faintly at him before going out after the scientist.

Ronon looked around in bewilderment. "What?"

Getting frustrated, he went after the others.

 

* * *

 

Sheppard had been moved into the isolation room, where he and McKay currently lied on matching gurneys next to each other. Monitors and other equipment had been set up. Carter, Ronon and Teyla stood in the foot of McKay's and Sheppard's gurneys. Rodney was uncharacteristically silent.

Carter looked at her companions. "We first encountered the technology ten years ago on a planet where the survivors of a holocaust were living entirely in a virtual world created in their minds. Since then, we've managed to modify it for use in the VR training of SG team members." She explained.

Ronon lifted his eyebrows a little, impressed. "So McKay's actually going to see Sheppard's dreams?"

Carter winced at that. Hesitantly she began to tell more. "Well… To be honest, the technology is untested for use in this manner." She scratched her head. "Eh, dreams are much more random than conscious thought. It may be difficult for the system to translate what's going on in the Colonel's brain so that McKay can understand it. I'm just hoping that the two of them will be able to interact somehow." She stopped talking, looking hopefully at McKay.

Meanwhile the personnel, including Keller and Zelenka, had attached leads into the two mens heads and cardiac monitors. Just in case Keller had started an IV on both Sheppard and Rodney.

Jennifer took Rodney's hand in her warm one. "Are you sure about this?" she whispered.

He squirmed a little. "Not really."

Keller glanced at the worried faces filling the isolation room. Then she looked back to Rodney. "We're ready if you are."

Taking a deep breath, the scientist gave a small wave and a wavering smile at the rest of his team and then nodded.

Keller nodded as well. "Administering the sedative!" She declared.

Rodney closed his eyes.

When he opened them again he was met with not just one, but  _two_ Sheppard's! Both were dressed in the Colonel's black uniform, from the elbow length shirt to the black BDU's and the Atlantis issued boots. The only difference was that the other one was standing and smiling at him, while the other was lying on the floor on his stomach - and eeew he was bleeding, there was blood covering the left side of his face - staring at him with the mixture of amazement and fear.

"Um, Sheppard?" he asked uncertainly.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

The Sheppard that was standing swiveled around so that he completely faced Rodney. "Doctor McKay!" he exclaimed with delight and clapped his hands together.

"Um, hey?" Rodney answered hesitantly, looking back and forth between the two Sheppards.

"I must say it is an absolute pleasure to meet you!" The other Sheppard continued, bubbling from excitement. Then he took Rodney's hand and shook it enthusiastically.  _Oookaay, so that's weird._

The scientist locked eyes with the other pilot still lying on his stomach, gaping at him. The blood alarmed him, as did the shallow breathing. Worry wrinkled his forehead. He looked back at the one letting go of the handshake.

"So, I take it that the one covered in blood is Sheppard?" he asked politely, with more calm than he had thought he could muster (since of course  _his_  Sheppard would be the one injured). He rubbed his hands together nervously.

The Sheppard standing in front of him chuckled lightly, eyes sparkling with malice. "He is the Sheppard you know. I, on the other hand, am his worst nightmare."

"So, um, you are the entity, correct?"

"You can call me that if you wish. It is true that I came from the crystal, but ever since I got into my new host" the other Sheppard on the floor flinched at the word "I've been learning what I can of him and his ways, delving deep into his memories. I know what makes him who he is, and all that knowledge is now a part of me. So technically, I am Sheppard as well." The entity smiled coldly.

The doppelganger was creeping him out. Clearing his throat, Rodney ignored his rising anxiety and shot words out of his mouth in a rapid succession. "Ahem, well it's been all fun and games Mr. I-know-everything McCreepy with a capital C, what do you say we just go on our merry way and send you a postcard every Christmas, pinky promise, no need to bother dealing with us poor humans, after all -"

The entity cut short his rambling. "I'd stay down if I were you Johnny-boy!" it said with an upbeat voice. Behind them, John had started to drag himself onto his knees during Rodney's rant, hoping that he could catch the alien by surprise.

The entity snapped his fingers once, and ropes appeared, tying John's wrists together and lifting him up so that his toes barely touched the ground. The pilot grunted at the discomfort the position was causing, especially in his already damaged ribs.

Rodney looked eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "We are so screwed." He mouthed slowly.

The creature turned around once more. "Do not worry Doctor, I didn't forget about you."

Another snap of the fingers and a cage formed around him.

Rodney was really starting to panic. How were they supposed to get out of this one!? He looked at Sheppard.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here McKay!" he hissed, and oh boy Sheppard looked scared too, but it was  _Sheppard_ , he didn't  _do_  scared or panicky, that was Rodney's job and oh god if Sheppard was scared then they seriously were screwed… With effort Rodney stopped his the trail of his thoughts and tried to focus to the situation at hand. Anger. He needed anger. He could deal with anger.

"Hellooouu?! I'm here to save the damsel in distress, namely you! You know you have been comatose with an alien entity stuck in your brain? Hmmh?!"

Sheppard grimaced. "You shouldn't have come." he sighed with defeat evident in his voice.

"SO!" the entity exclaimed loudly, clapping his hand together. "What would you like to know about our mutual friend here, Doctor McKay?" it asked gleefully.

Rodney shifted his gaze to the entity. "Eh, what?" he responded intelligently.

The entity grinned widely.

"You know, he really cares about you." It put its index finger on its lips and looked up in fake ponderance. "You are his best friend - well, the best one he has had. Kind of like… Family. Yes, that is the correct word, isn't it John? The whole team, they are like this little dysfunctional family to you. Definitely more so than your own one ever was. It's pathetic, really. Thinking that maybe,  _maybe_  this time his family might actually love him back. Like I said,  _pathetic_."

With that it began circling Sheppard, clearly enjoying the situation. " Maybe that's a good place to start huh? Tell your little friend here just how much Daddy  _hated_ his useless offspring."

Rodney saw Sheppard visibly pale at that. What the hell was going on here? Rodney watched the Colonel with concern.

"Or how about how you  _killed your own mother_?" the entity hissed loudly in John's ear. Sheppard shut his eyes tightly as Rodney blinked. When his eyelids slid apart, the scientist found himself outside, with the sun warming his back. In front of him was a scrawny little boy with spiky black hair, solemnly walking down the street with a black backpack - presumably a school bag. On his right side there was an expensive looking brick fence with little spikes on top.

But where was Sheppard, and the entity? A sudden idea popped into his head as he ran in front of the boy and took a peep at his face.

Yep, it was John Sheppard alright.

"Sheppard!" Rodney shouted, relieved. His relief was short-lived as the boy continued to stroll and abruptly walked  _through_  him.

He gaped after the small form disappearing behind a curve.

"John?" he called hesitantly. Getting no answer he hurried after mini-Sheppard.

He was just in time to see the boy step through a beautiful yet strong gate with delicate iron garnishments. On the other side there was a  _huge_  mansion, with far too many windows for Rodney to count in his hurry. He openly gaped at it for a moment before closing his mouth.

"So this is where you grew up in huh?" he muttered in awe.

Momentarily distracted he shook his head. "Focus Rodney. First priority: Find Sheppard. Second: Figure out a way out of here." He smiled smugly. See Sheppard? He could think rationally in a military situation (okay maybe not exactly military, but there was a very real threat of the evil-twin-Sheppard which made the situation a dangerous one, thank you very much, hence relatable to a military situation).

His expression grew more thoughtful. "Hmm, time to test a theory..."

Rodney took a deep breath and walked through the gate without any hindrance. "Huh, cool. So this place,  _definitely_  not real."

Then he started jogging towards Sheppard, who had already disappeared behind the gigantic mahogany double doors. He did not even stop to admire the gilded doorknobs opting to go through the doors in his haste.

Rodney skidded to a halt in the hallway after the doors and gave a low whistle. "Damn, how rich are you Sheppard?" he pondered quietly.

The room was spacious, to say the least, the hallway leading into other rooms scattered along it's path. At the end of the hall was a staircase winding to the next floor and the floors after that. A ridiculously expensive looking red carpet was covering the dark and shiny wooden floors with breath-taking paintings hanging from the walls and a few smallish statues occupying the otherwise empty corners. How on Earth was he supposed to find Sheppard in this maze? Should he just try the doors one at a time? But the mansion was so big on the outside, it would certainly have an "east wing" and a "west wing" and whatnot. He stood where he was, feeling lost.

Then a door opened at the far end of the corridor. A small form walked out of there, carefully closing the door behind him, and started to climb up the luxurious staircase next to it.

Rodney grinned. "There you are!"

He ran next to little Sheppard, noting that the kid was carrying a tray with two plates filled with spaghetti and mincemeat sauce. There was also two glasses of orange juice, as well as cutlery for two. The backpack from earlier was missing.

"You hungry huh?" Rodney said conversationally. "And you always claim that  _I_  eat a lot. Which is so not true, Ronon eats much more than I do, I mean have you seen that guy? Besides, I don't even touch it if it has anything to do with citrus!"

Then he remembered that Sheppard couldn't hear him, see him, or even touch him for that matter.

"How am I supposed to get your attention when I can't even… Well, get your attention!" he didn't bother to hide the frustration in his voice.

They walked up to the second storey, then turned left until the kid stopped in front of one of the doors. Rodney frowned as he saw hesitance flashing through mini-Sheppard's face, fading away as quickly as it came.

Sheppard opened his mouth to say something as his hand pushed the door in. A loud  _BANG_  came from the room. The words Sheppard was going to say died on his lips as he stared ahead, color swiftly draining from his face.

Rodney could only see the left side of Sheppard and not into the room, since the door hadn't been fully opened. Worried, he decided to use his new "powers" and took a determined step through the door. The sight that greeted him was not pleasant.

"Oh Jesus…" he whispered, horrified.

A big double bed took out the most space in the room, and in the bed… There was a beautiful woman with long black curls lying with her hazel eyes staring at the ceiling, unseeing. A gun was in her hand and there was blood pooling from the back of her head. On the wall next to the head of the bead there were blood spattered with what suspiciously looked like bits and pieces of brainmatter.

Rodney felt like throwing up. Nauseous and dizzy, he averted his gaze from the body and looked back to the doorway. Oh God. He had forgotten Sheppard.

The kid just stood there, staring at the corpse. His skin looked whiter than the blood spattered sheets on the bed. Rodney wanted to go to him, turn him away from the gruesome sight. Give him a hug and tell him everything would be okay. He couldn't even block it, being transparent and all. Rodney could only watch as Sheppard's breath hitched slightly and his hands trembled a little.

After for what felt like an eternity had passed, the scene in front of him slowly faded, replaced by another one.

This time Sheppard looked a bit older, but not much time could have passed after the last memory or illusion or what ever this was. John was standing next to a liquor cabinet, a bottle of expensive whiskey in his right hand and a glass with three cubes of ice in the other. In the back Rodney could see a grown man sitting in front of a desk, reading a piece of paper. Judging by the jaw line, nose and eyebrows, the man was closely related to John. The hair was wrong however, all sandy brown and neatly combed, the eyes were a pale blue and the build of his body was too stocky.

After pouring the drink in the glass, Rodney observed John carefully put the cap on the bottle and turn towards the man. With his eyes cast slightly downwards, the child shuffled next to the desk, placing the drink within reaching distance of the man. The man let a silent huff as he continued reading the paper, paying no attention to John.

Rodney saw John lick his lips nervously, the boy's gaze flickering between the man and his folded hands.

"Um, Father…" he began hesitantly only to be disrupted.

"I have told you many times not to call me that when we are alone." the man, apparently Sheppard's father answered impatiently without turning his gaze.

John casted his eyes down on the floor. "Yes sir…" he said quietly.

The man sighed with exasperation. "What do you want now?" he demanded irritatedly.

John chewed on his bottom lip and kept his eyes firmly on the carpet. "I, um, got another A in math and the teacher said, um that I really had some potential so I thought, um that maybe…"

"That maybe what?" the older Sheppard cut him off with a sneer on his face. "It makes you a somebody? You should know better than to bother me with such trivial matters. Must you always be such a disappointment? Leave me be and for once try to be of use. Dismissed."

The man turned his attention back to the paper in his hands while John stared at his feet, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Yes sir, I'll be better sir…" he muttered and started heading towards the exit. When he was almost at the liquor cabinet, his father raised his voice again. "This glass has far too little whiskey in it! Can't you do anything correctly?!"

The boy, startled, turned around quickly, accidentally knocking down the expensive bottle on the edge of the cabinets counter. John looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights, with a pale face and accelerated breathing.

His father looked up with anger written all over his face. He put down the paper and rose from his chair, walking closer to his son. "Do you have ANY idea how expensive that was?! Don't you ever think of others than yourself!?"

"I- I- I'm so-sorry sir, I didn't me-mean to -" the kid stuttered with a horrified expression.

"My God, now you can't even  _speak_  properly?!" The back of the older man's palm smacked against the younger one's cheek with such force that the child nearly collapsed.

John averted his gaze back to his feet and bit his lip to stop the cry of pain from escaping.

"What do you got to say for yourself? Nothing? Pathetic. You've always been such a screw-up. A failure right from the start. You just break everything you touch." Sheppard's father stated coldly. "No wonder your mother killed herself, who could stand being around such worthlessness for a longer period of time? Everything would have been so much better if you had never been born."

Despite John's rapid blinking to clear his eyes, a tear dropped and rolled down his face.

"And now you're crying!?" The man's voice was suddenly filled with anger yet again. " _Sheppards do not cry!_ " he shouted and grabbed John's wrist, twisting it until a crack could be heard. Seemingly satisfied with his sons pained whimper he violently shoved John on the floor and kicked him in the torso.

"Disgusting." he snarled as he turned to walk away. "A waste of time, I don't even know why I bother…"

The scene faded once again and a new one started forming. The scientist felt like tossing his cookies, he knew John never really talked about his past but he'd always figured there had been some kind of petty argument launching a snowball effect. But this… This was worse than he could have ever imagined. Prying open the eyelids he hadn't even noticed closing, Rodney carefully took in the dimly lit room. In front of him was another young version of Sheppard, around the same age as in the last flashback.

John was facing a mirror with a dull look in his hazel orbs. And then Rodney saw them. The  _scars_. They were crossing John's back to every direction and on his abdomen where something that suspiciously seemed like burn marks coupled with a few fading bruises here and there.

With a sigh the boy picked up a black long-sleeved shirt from the floor and flung it over his dark, unruly hair. He pulled it down his torso and checked that the sleeves covered the bruises on his left forearm. Then he fetched a makeup kit from his bed.

Rodney was confused. And nauseous. And dizzy. And did he mention nauseous? Oddly, for once he was not the least bit hungry. But why on Earth would the kid have a makeup kit? It all clicked when John started applying the makeup on his black-and-blue cheek, skillfully hiding every trace of the bruise that was there just a moment ago.

"This is so screwed up…" Rodney moaned.

Finishing, John put the kit back on his bed and looked into the mirror again. Rodney shivered involuntarily. The kid's eyes just looked so… Dead. No child - wait scratch that - no person should  _ever_  look like that. Except maybe Kolya.

John gave another deep sigh, closing his eyes and lowering his head. When he lifted his head up, his eyes were open and there was a smirk on his face that was so  _Sheppard_  that Rodney nearly cried. It was scary how easily the kid could hide himself beneath a mask, though after spending so much time with Colonel I'm-Fine, Rodney had learned to read him just a little bit. And in Sheppard's book, that smile was fake as hell. Though Rodney sadly realized that it must be pretty darn convincing to everyone else. Even he had to look closely to see the tenseness of John's face. Or maybe that was since he had seen the real smile.

Rodney rubbed his hand tiredly over his eyes and suddenly found himself back in the control room of Atlantis with the two Johns.

 

* * *

 

"Well that was  _fun_  now wasn't it!" exclaimed the entity, throwing his hands in the air with glee. "What should we show him next Johnny-boy?"

Startled by his return, Rodney shifted his gaze on Sheppard in an attempt to seek strength from the one who was always strong for them all. Even though his face was pale, bloody and sweaty, his every breath a struggle, John held his head high and stared at the entity straight in the eyes with "the look" he usually saved for Wraith queens or Kolya.

"Fine, be a baby." the entity huffed and rolled his eyes. "Though I can't let that kind of behaviour go unpunished. What would Father say if he'd see you now? No, wait don't answer we all know how disappointed he is." The entity chuckled.

It snapped it's fingers and a loud crack could be heard as Sheppard's arm twisted by itself and stopped in an odd angle. The unexpected pain drew a small scream out of the pilot before he could close his mouth, biting his teeth together hard in his determination not to show just how much it hurt. After a while he started panting for air, wincing as the movement jarred his ribs.

The entity clapped its hands together. "Back to business then! Since you are such a buzzkill, I will make the choice. Hmmm, now I wonder what would be most fun…"It started walking around a small circle in front of Sheppard. "How about when Daddy finally had had enough, disowning your worthless ass and washing his hand from you? Or how poor little Johnny was bullied in school for being "the spoiled rich kid"? Or how about Afghanistan where all your buddies died? Or when Nancy left you because you never let her in? Remember, right after Afghanistan, and a little before McMurdo? That one  _hurt_ , losing everything you had gained  _so quickly_  and then being shipped to the middle of nowhere to live your life in solitude - while occasionally flying a chopper or two. I mean, you really hit the bottom there, I'm surprised you never pulled the trigger. Remember when you decided not to get close to anyone ever again, how you swore you would never put others in harms way again? Well that worked out great didn't it?" It laughed with malice.

"Or maybe show just how pathetically low self-esteem you have? How even now some nights you can't fall asleep, remembering all those you've gotten killed, wondering whether they had families that cared, people they loved, the guilt from taking all those lives weighing you down, eating you alive… How you try to avoid looking into mirrors because you hate what stares back at you? Perhaps - SON OF A BITCH!"

Rodney had watched with almost morbid curiosity as the entity walked a circle, waving his hands above his head, obviously enjoying John's misery when something happened. It looked almost as if electricity ran through its body, making it look a bit  _ripple-y_  and shout in pain. Rodney could almost hear Sheppard's voice in his head:  _So Ancient-y isn't a word but ripple-y? Now tell me, is that the proper scientific term?_  Great, even the Sheppard in his head was oozing sarcasm.

Anyway, along with the "ripple" phenomenon, the ropes holding Sheppard up disappeared along with the cage Rodney was in. With a yelp Sheppard dropped down ungracefully.

Too dazed to act Rodney gaped with his mouth hanging open as the entity gasped "What… The… Hell..?"

Then another spasm, or ripple, or what-ever-it-was run through its body, making it double over. Meanwhile Sheppard had recovered from making close acquaintance with the floor. He had gotten on his wobbly feet, holding the no-doubt broken arm close to his torso. Slowly he walked next to the entity as another "ripple" came. The Colonel lifted his "evil twin" by the collar with his good arm and dragged it to the open 'gate.

"See you… In hell." He muttered, struggling to breathe steadily and keep the black spots out of his vision. Gathering up his left-over strength, John threw the entity into the 'gate with a groan.

The Stargate closed. The room looked oddly dim. Not really sure what had just happened Rodney watched as Sheppard swayed slightly. That spurred him into action. "Sheppard!" he yelled as he started jogging towards him. The pilot turned around.

"Hi Rodney," he said tiredly and then collapsed.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Rodney awoke with a huge gasp. For a fraction of a second he stared at the ceiling of Atlantis' isolation room while everything that had happened flooded into his mind. Then he snapped his head quickly to his right to check up on Sheppard and found the familiar hazels locking with his blues. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, both making sure that the other one was alright. Rodney saw a flicker of relief, mirroring his own before the figurative curtains were shut and John's expression became unreadable. The pilot then turned his head back towards the ceiling, closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"Doctor McKay, Colonel, it's good to have you back." Keller said, relief of her own written all over her face.

Rodney gave her a small, slightly unsteady smile. The horrors of the entity were still fresh on his mind. Some of his initial worry growing back, Rodney glanced at Sheppard again, trying to reassure himself that the Colonel was just fine thank you very much. What he didn't expect was to see the pilot's face drain out of color as he drew air in his lungs with an effort.

"Sheppard?!" If someone later commented anything about the squeak, Rodney would swear it had been a deep, manly, Ronon-y grunt. And yes, he just made up Ronon-y so what? He was a genius, he was allowed to make up some words right?

Keller's face settled into a frown as her experienced fingers drew up a stethoscope. At that moment a large gash formed itself over Sheppard's left eyebrow, blood starting to steadily roll out of it. The Colonel's eyes got a dazed look in them.

"Fix him Jennifer!" Rodney squaled in his terror. This couldn't happen, they just got back, it was over, they were safe on Atlantis,  _it was over nonononono_.

Keller cursed under her breath in a very unladylike manner as she called for her med-team. "Everybody who doesn't need to be here, get out now!" Then she fixed him in her stare while pressing some gauze on the pilot's headwound. "Rodney, what the hell is going on?!"

Before he could answer, however, John let out a strangled scream as his arm snapped and stayed in that same odd angle it had in that dream. Then his eyes rolled to the back of his head and John Sheppard lost consciousness.

"Marie, Derek, we need to get him under the scanner now!" With Keller shouting instructions, the medical team quickly dispatched Sheppard from the various wires attached to him and wheeled him away.

 

* * *

 

Rodney was pacing. The team plus Carter had been waiting outside the infirmary for over an hour now, with no news on John. Teyla was sitting on the floor in one of her meditation positions, Ronon played with his knife while throwing dark glances towards the closed doors, Carter sat on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs looking like she needed to go to sleep for a week and Rodney? Well, he continued pacing, trying to rid himself of the nervous energy until he could take no more.

"What could be taking so long, they've been there for ages!" He finally snapped out loud. Teyla opened her eyes and gracefully stood up.

"I am sure they are doing what they can for the Colonel." She stated calmly with warmness in her voice.

At that moment, an exhausted Keller walked out of the infirmary. She stopped for a moment, taking in the rooms occupants. Then she smiled. "Well, the good news is that the Colonel should make a full recovery."

With that, everyone left out a breath they hadn't noticed holding. Then Keller grimaced. "The not so good is that it will take quite a while for him to return to active duty. He has a slight concussion, two broken ribs, four cracked ones and a couple more bruised. And his ulna, the bone in his right forearm was broken. Luckily it was a clean break, so it should heal up nicely."

Then Jennifer gave Rodney a pointed look. "What happened in there?"

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, the scientist started wringing his hands together as everyone's attention switched to him. "I -"

He looked at Keller and then Carter.

"I - I can't really talk about it." He said quietly. Carter lifted a questioning eyebrow in sync with Teyla.

"It's - It was too personal, it's not my place to talk about it." He explained with a subdued voice.

Then Ronon spoke up, seeing that Carter was about to argue. "Let it go. Sheppard will tell us himself if he wants to."

Sam sighed and gave a small nod. "I guess we can wait a little while longer."

 

* * *

 

Rodney was typing rapidly on his computer in his lab when he heard someone enter the room.

"Go away I'm busy!" He snapped while hitting the keyboard furiously as if it had personally offended him. Couldn't people just leave him be?

Suddenly his chair was yanked behind him, drawing an indignant yelp out of his mouth. A worried Teyla and a pissed looking Ronon swam into his vision. Settling on his are-you-stupid-or-just-immensely-dumb frown, he folded his arms and puffed his chest up.

"What do you want? Can't you see I have stuff to do like, I don't know, keep Atlantis up and running  _hmmh?!_ " He snarked.

"Shut it McKay," Ronon answered not unkindly.

Teyla glanced at Ronon before focusing on the scientist. "We are worried about the Colonel and yourself, Doctor McKay. You have been avoiding each other for over a week now." Her warm tone and gentle eyes got through Rodney's defenses and he deflated like the proverbial balloon.

"I haven't been avoiding him." He muttered petulantly while glaring at his feet. "He's been "asleep" every time I've been there, that's hardly my fault!"

He lifted his chin high, challenging them to disagree with him.

"You've been there twice." Ronon provided helpfully.

Rodney spluttered for a moment before exclaiming "I've been busy, resident genius here hellooooo?!" and continued to mumble under his breath about traitorous voodoo priests.

"Rodney." The rare use of his first name made him look at Teyla. He sighed.

"Okay, fine maybe I've been catching up on some not-so-vital research but he has been avoiding me too! I even asked Keller to make sure he was awake and…" He sighed again, running a tired hand through his hair. "Honestly I don't know what to say."

"You must speak with John sooner or later." Teyla placed her hand on McKay's shoulder in a comforting gesture. The scientist gave a noncommital huff.

"Well, there's no time like the present huh?"

 

* * *

 

Rodney wanted out. His palms were sweaty, his stomach churning and his head was swimming. He wanted to bolt out back to the safety of his lab and pretend everything is fine.

He had talked to Jennifer and made sure no one would come waltzing in to bother them. Drying his palms on his pants, Rodney took a deep breath. Right. Time to face the music and whatnot.

He opened the room to find John, surprise surprise, apparently out cold. Rodney was pretty sure he was faking it though. His face seemed a bit too tense and the breathing was too even,  _too perfect_. For a moment the scientist stopped and took in the state of his friend. The pilot was looking remarkably better, the stitches from his head had been removed, though the white cast wouldn't be going anywhere in a while. Some color had also returned to his face, so that he didn't blend in to the infirmary sheets anymore.

Rodney shuffled slightly on his feet before clearing his throat loudly. No change. He scratched the back of his head. Oh, screw it.

"You know, I am fully aware that you're not sleeping so might as well give up pretending."

To his surprise, John opened his eyes with a sigh, opting to look at the ceiling rather than him.

"Can't blame a guy for trying, right?" He retorted weakly.

Rodney opened his mouth only to close it again. He didn't know what to say since talking about emotions and feelings had never been his forte. And Sheppard wasn't any better.

The silence stretched on, heavy and uncomfortable.

"Look, I -" "Sheppard -"

They said in unison. Sheppard seemed to suddenly take great interest in his cast, as he started absentmindedly picking at it.

"It was real wasn't it? What the entity showed?" Rodney asked, unsure.

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Silence followed until Sheppard broke it, speaking with a low voice.

"It's cool McKay." He let out a deep breath. "I get it and it's okay, I ahem.."

He paused and cleared his throat. "I knew it was just a matter of time and.. Yeah I guess I've been putting things off."

For the first time since he had been taken to the infirmary, John fixed Rodney in an unreadable stare. He seemed to hesitate for a moment and then rushed out what he had to say.

"I'll talk to Wolsey today on the debrief to Earth and ask for transmission. I don't have much to pack so might as well leave right away, Caldwell can take my place here, so don't worry Rodney I swear you guys will  _never_  have to see or hear from me again, I promise I won't bother you anymore, so it's fine, problem solved, no need to -"

It would be an understatement to say that Rodney was stunned. Slowly getting control of his vocal tract he stopped the pilot's rambling with a loud "NO!"

Sheppard shut up instantly, looking nervous and a bit pale. For a moment Rodney fumbled for words, his mouth opening and closing on it's own.

"Just - Just NO! What are you thinking you  _idiot_?!"

Sheppard shrugged helplessly while lowering his gaze and said quietly "I thought.."

"Well then don't think, leave that to me!" Rodney interrupted with a frown. "You're my best friend and what? You expect me to watch you walk out of my life and wave happily at your retreating form? For your information I don't happen to have very many friends and I would be very unhappy indeed to lose one of them! You- You're- My God for someone supposedly smart you can be really pig-headed you know!"

"I thought I was a brainless military grunt." Sheppard smiled wanly.

"That's not the point here! The point is that…" Rodney paused before continuing tentatively "I  _care_  about you John. We all do. And I believe that I speak for all of us when I say that yes, this time your family _does_  love you back." He finished softly.

John was biting his lower lib and playing with the edge of his sheet, not looking up. Rodney took a step closer and heavily sat down on one of the chairs next to the bed. Then he looked at Sheppard with a serious expression.

"Besides, if you leave, you know Ronon will go on a rampage and scare all the newbies away. And Teyla? Teyla will cry. Do you want to make Teyla cry?"

"Then what should I do?" John asked softly.

"You stay." Rodney answered firmly.

John rubbed his eyes with his good hand and looked at Rodney. Suddenly, he looked alarmingly tired.

"And what if I screw up? What if I get you killed? I don't think I could live with myself knowing you guys died because of me."

Rodney did not like the haunted quality of his eyes.

"You don't get it Rodney, I'm not a good person. Doesn't matter what I do, where I am, people around me always leave or end up dead. Why would Atlantis be any different? I will fuck thing up eventually. And then I'm alone again, story of my life." John laughed mirthlessly. He ran a shaky hand through his messy hair.

"I have been selfish and irresponsible staying here for so long… I really am not worth it, all the trouble I cause, all the lives that have been lost… I even woke up the Wraith for god's sake!"

Rodney laid his hand on Sheppard's shoulder, not moving it when the dark haired man flinched at the touch.

"You are the kindest, funniest, most selfless person that I have had the honor to meet. You really are a good person, and I will take it as my task to hammer it through that thick skull of yours. Trust me, I'm a genius. And if you don't trust my judgement, then what about Teyla? Or Ronon? If you'd be anything but a good person Teyla wouldn't have stayed in your team. And we both know how good she is at reading people. The same goes for Ronon. I guess being on the run for seven years has made him adept at figuring out who he can trust. But if he didn't think you worth the trouble he would have just shot you."

John was rapidly blinking to clear the moistness which had formed in his eyes. Clearing his throat once more, Rodney bent down to pick a chessboard he had brought with him.

"Chess? Best two out of three. The winner get's the losers desert for the next week!"

"If you're ready to get your ass handed to you.  _Again_." John smirked. It seemed a bit forced, but at least he wasn't talking about leaving anymore.

Rodney pointed at him accusingly. "You are so cheating! And I won't rest until I figure out how!"

"Guess you're going to stay up for a while then."

Rodney huffed as he set the pieces on the table.

"Thanks."

The scientist looked up to see Sheppard giving him a small, hesitant smile. This one seemed more real. He smiled back.

"Anytime."

"So when are you going to ask Keller on a date?"

"Wha- Where did you- What did you-?!"

"Oh please it's obvious the way you are stuttering around her."

" _I do not stutter_!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

" _Oh shut up fly-boy!_ "

  
  



End file.
